Pleasing Mistake
by Leotron
Summary: When Effie Trinket wakes up with Haymitch in her bed, her initial reaction is horror. But what happens when she finds out that a drunken mistake might not be as much of a mistake after all?
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One:**

Light streamed in from the window, casting a morning glow all throughout the room.

Effie Trinket slowly blinked opened her eyes, her body reluctantly fighting off the sleepiness that was currently impairing her senses. She could feel the overwhelming exhaustion creep up on her, the aching stiffness in her limbs, and the throbbing pain searing through her head.

All of it together made it to where her thought process was not up to par, and she could just barely register the fact that her body was tangled in the sheets, or that there was another warm body lying to next to hers in the bed.

Wait, what?

Her eyes snapped open upon the realization, and horror coursed through her. Had she brought another Capital fan boy, or girl for that matter, to bed? Or worse, someone higher up the totem pole, like a game maker?

The events of the night before were blurry and she struggled to piece them together. She had no idea what to expect when she turned around, and she dreaded to look at exactly who was the other occupant of her bed.

Every movement caused the pain in her head to pulse, but she gathered up her nerve and hesitantly rolled over onto her other side...

...and found herself face to face with Haymitch.

He was passed out, and one glanced downward told her that he was very, very naked...and so was she. He was lying on his stomach, his face buried into the pillow, and he appeared to be peacefully sleeping.

That was, until she let out the most deafening, ear-splitting scream. Haymitch? _Haymitch_? Of all people...in _her_ bed?

The man in question slowly blinked open his eyes at the noise, seemingly not yet aware of what was going on around him. "Okay, honey, it's time for you to leave..." he mumbled, but then his eyes began to fix on her and she saw a flicker of surprise. "Oh, it's you."

Remembering her nudity, and trying not to notice his, she scrambled into a sitting position. Tugging the blanket around her body to regain some modesty, she glared at him. "Of course it's me, you fool!" she snapped angrily. "You're in my room!"

"Sorry, sorry, don't get your panties in a bunch," he grumbled lazily, using his hands to push himself upright. He looked over at her, glancing her body up and down. "But from the looks of things, you're not wearing any."

Effie tried to fight the blush that was currently trying to rise to her cheeks, and ignored his comments. "Why are you in here?" she asked, doing her best to keep her voice from shaking with frustration.

"Hell if I know," he answered, making an attempt to stifle a yawn. "Probably because I fell asleep here."

"This is not time for joking!" she yelled furiously, not even bothering to sound calm. "I need to know exactly what happened last night!"

He didn't reply right away, instead taking the time to stand up and stretch. Before she knew what she was doing, she found her eyes traveling downward, almost against her will...

"Have a nice view, sweetie?" asked Haymitch as he stepped into a pair of black dress pants that had been lying on the floor. "I know I sure do."

Snapping her eyes back up to his face, she was momentarily confused as to what he was saying. But then she realized that the blanket she had wrapped around her body was slowly beginning to slip.

Yanking it back up, she glared angrily at him. "As funny as that is, it still doesn't explain what happened last night."

He rolled his eyes. "Isn't it obvious?" he asked as he began to button up a shirt that had also been on the floor only moments before. "Empty wine glasses on the table, discarded clothes littering the floor...It's all just so confusing!"

The last part was said mockingly, his voice raised a few pitches higher than normal in order to imitate hers.

"Shut up!" she snapped at him, not in the mood for his mockery or foolery. But was he right...? Was what he was implying really true...? It couldn't be. _No_.

But as she glanced around the room, she saw that everything he pointed out was there. Empty glasses and a bottle of wine were set on the table, and she could clearly make out her clothes scattered throughout the room.

The knowledge of all these things slowly connected in her brain, and flashes of the night before began to come back to her.

"You...I..." she fumbled over her words, finding it becoming increasingly harder to speak. "I was drunk!"

Her declaration was practically an admittance, and she almost felt like crying. Did _she_, Effie Trinket, really have sex with...Haymitch Abernathy? The thought made her feel so low, so dirty.

She was from the Capital, he was from the worst district in all of Panem. It couldn't have happened. Her standards surely couldn't have fallen just because she had drunk a few glasses of wine.

Haymitch shrugged, running his hand over his face. Unlike her, he didn't seem to be suffering from internal panic. "So was I," he pointed out.

"But you're always drunk," she argued, pulling the blanket closer around her body. "It doesn't count."

He arched an eyebrow over at her. "Doesn't it?"

She didn't reply, instead beginning to mumble to herself. "How could I have let this happened?" she asked, but then looked up at him. "You...You forced me!" she accused rashly, but almost instantly regretted it once the words were out of her mouth.

She knew good and well that it wasn't true, but found herself incapable of saying out loud that she had done it willingly.

He glowered at her, walking over to the table and snatching up the almost empty wine bottle. "Call me an ass, I don't care," he began, downing the little liquid that was still left. "But I've never forced a woman in my life, and I as sure as hell didn't force you."

Running the back of his hand over his mouth, he began to make his way over to the door. "Now, I suggest that you go take a shower and put on that mask of yours before a stray Avox walks in and sees you without your make-up."

She gaped at him, but before she could come up with a response, he was already leaving. He walked out and slammed the door, the now empty wine bottle still in his hand.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two:**

Effie fiddled with the shower settings she had long since memorized. Not too cool, not too warm. It didn't take her long to find the right combination of cold and hot, pressure, and soap, and when she did she dropped the blanket she had taken with her and stepped into the shower.

"What the...!"

She bit her lip hard, forcing herself not to curse, the knowledge of how thin the walls were in her mind. Unfortunately, it didn't help the fact that the water was currently searing any place it touched on her body.

She had no idea what was causing the pain, and looked down to see a few minor bruises lining her skin.

More memories of the night before flashed through her mind, and she became aware of just how _rough_ they had been.

It started with her simply requesting Haymitch to her room in order to discuss the strategy for before the games, and how he had refused to do it without having something to continually drink.

So she had opened a bottle of wine, gotten two glasses, and...

"Oh God," she murmured, closing her eyes and leaning against the wall of the shower.

She planned to stay like that forever, naked with the stream of water running onto her body, stinging the evidence of all that had happened on the previous night. Yes, it would have been fine to live the rest of her life in that moment.

Suddenly there was a loud, rough knocking on her bathroom door, and her eyes snapped open. The moment left almost as quickly as it had come.

"Who is it?" she called tentatively, moving over to look out of the side of her shower curtain.

"Caesar Flickerman," an achingly familiar voice answered. "Who do you think?"

Before she could reply, the door opened and Haymitch walked in without an invitation.

She resisted the urge to let out a yelp at his nerve, and instead rolled her eyes. "What do _you_ want?" she asked icily.

He leaned against the doorframe of the bathroom. His hair was wet and he was wearing one of the blue robes that came with staying at the Training Center.

"I was just wondering if you had any..." he trailed off and, instead of elaborating, reached up and moved his hair out of the way, motioning toward his neck. She saw that he had a few prominent hickeys starting near his ear and disappearing where his robe began.

She glanced over into the mirror at herself, and saw that her neck wasn't exactly untouched either. "I guess so," she answered hesitantly.

"Well, I also have some weird marks right here..." he started and, before she knew what he was doing, began to absentmindedly untie his robe.

She stared at him, horrified. "Stop!"

He paused at her protest, looking over at her. "What?"

"You're standing in the middle of my bathroom!" she pointed out to him, wondering if he was being purposefully dense. "And there's nothing about your body that I want to see right now, trust me."

He gave a dramatic sigh, but obediently began to retie his robe. "Are you so sure about that?"

"Yes," she answered firmly, trying to push away any unwanted doubts that were making an effort to form in her mind. "Besides, there's probably nothing impressive there, anyways."

She had no idea why she had added that, considering it wasn't really necessary. Maybe it was just something to see what she could do to his ego.

"That sounds like a challenge," he said, pushing himself up from leaning on the doorframe and taking a few steps closer to where the shower was located.

"Well, it's not," she told him, doing her best to try and keep her voice steady. His movement toward her was making her feel a little lightheaded. "Besides, I've already seen you naked, haven't I?"

"I had a glass of Scotch on the journey here," he admitted, ignoring her question and yawning. "I'm pretty much up for doing anything right now, you know."

"The journey here?" she repeated incredulously. "It takes less than a minute to travel from your room to mine." She paused, processing his last statement. "...And are you saying what I think you're saying?"

He shrugged, and it appeared as if he was considering his response. "Well, I just figured..." he began. "Why not try it sober?"

It didn't take a genius to figure out what he was talking about.

She stared at him, her eyes narrowed. "Because you're not sober."

"Maybe," he agreed, not bothering to deny it. "But _you_ are."

She opened her mouth to tell him no, to say that the idea was absurd and he was an ass to even think she would consider it. How dare he barge up in her bathroom and suggest such...such...?

There was no way in hell she was going to do it. She told herself that it would be stupid and crazy, and she wasn't either of those things.

But then she looked over at him, found herself glancing at places where certain anatomy would be, and was too curious for her own good.

"Okay," she acceded, almost shocked that she had actually agreed.

His face gave away a flicker of surprise. "Seriously?" he inquired incredulously, arching an eyebrow. "I didn't think you'd actually want to."

She smirked over at him, feeling a bit daring. "Well, why not?" she asked. "It happened once, surely twice won't make it any more awkward?"

"I guess not," he replied, returning her smirk. "I knew you couldn't resist me."

She wouldn't go as far as to say that she was incapable of resisting him, but the way his soaked hair fell into his face, and the fact that she knew he was naked under his robe definitely didn't help not resisting him.

Trying not to smile, she motioned for him to join her in the shower.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three:**

"He's been in there a while."

Katniss glanced up from her breakfast but, when Peeta didn't add anything else, went back to eating.

"How long does it take for someone to borrow a bar of soap, anyways?" he continued on as he stared at the door to Effie's room, seemingly unaware of the fact that she wasn't giving his words her fullest attention.

Katniss rolled her eyes. "Yes," she began sarcastically, telling him what he wanted to hear. "I'm sure they're having sex in there."

"Hey, that wasn't what I said!" he protested, shooting a glance over at her.

She shrugged. "But it's what you were thinking."

The look on his face confirmed that she was right, and he ignored the statement. "I just find it odd that he hasn't come back yet. He even left his Scotch in here." He nodded toward the glass sitting on the table.

As if hearing the word "Scotch" being spoken and not being able to resist checking it out, a moment later Haymitch appeared from Effie's room. He was still wearing the blue robe, but his hair was even wetter than when he had last traveled through the main section and a bit messier.

Walking over to the table, he grabbed the glass. "Thanks for guarding this," he told Peeta as he downed the last bit of Scotch left at the bottom. His voice sounded lively, almost cheery, and he appeared to be wide awake.

Katniss rolled her eyes, looking up at him. "Are you ever _not_ drunk?" she asked.

"Are you ever _not_ asking questions, sweetheart?" he retorted, moving over and making himself comfortable in the chair next to her. "Good luck on finding a man with that delightful personality of yours."

"I'm not here to find a man," she replied fiercely. "I'm here to get as much information as I can in order to win the games, and so far you haven't been the biggest help in the world."

Haymitch's only response was a wave of his hand as he buttered up a piece of toast.

A minute or two later Effie came out of her room, completely dressed up in the Capital style that she seemed to adore so much. Her timing was almost perfect, as if it had been planned beforehand for them not to come out at the same time...

"Good morning, everyone!" she greeted cheerily as she took the last empty seat next to Peeta.

The room remained silent for a while as Haymitch poured himself a new glass of alcohol. Finally, Peeta glanced up from his breakfast and looked over at the only victor sitting at the table.

"So, Haymitch," he began, his voice overly-casual. "It sure did take you a long time to find a bar of soap."

Effie froze in raising her fork up to her mouth, but Haymitch just shrugged. "It took a while to find one under all of the useless junk she calls make-up," he replied lazily, motioning to Effie by rolling his eyes.

Peeta cleared his throat."It took one hour?"

Haymitch was normally quick-witted, but that question seemed to throw even him off for a few seconds. When he opened his mouth to reply, it was too late because Effie had managed to beat him to it.

"One hour?" she repeated in an incredulous tone, finally eating the bite of food that had been on her fork. "Try more like fifteen minutes."

Haymitch was in the middle of taking a sip of his drink, but choked into his glass. "F-Fifteen minutes?" he asked, coughing.

"Yes," she answered nonchalantly. "It's actually kind of surprising, considering the last time you needed a bar of soap I distinctly remember it taking noticeably longer for you to find it."

Katniss pushed her plate away from her. "You know, I'm not really hungry anymore," she told Peeta.

"Well, if you have a problem with how long it took," said Haymitch, ignoring the tribute's remark. "Maybe you should tell me no next time."

Effie scoffed, reaching over and grabbing the bottle of alcohol for herself. "Tell the amazing, Quarter-Quell winning Haymitch Abernathy no?" she asked, laughing slightly. "What would happen then? You'd probably get drunk and fall off of another stage!"

"Don't pretend you didn't want it just as much as I did!" replied Haymitch, finishing off his drink and snatching the bottle away from her to refill it.

She glared over at him. "I may have wanted it, yes, but I didn't know it'd be this awkward afterward!" she told him, taking the bottle from him while he was in the middle of pouring himself a glass.

The booze spilled out onto the table and all over the food, but everyone had long since stopped eating. Peeta gagged, coughing up the water he had just drunk.

"Oh God," he mumbled. "I'm going to be sick."

"_It happened once_," Haymitch mimicked her from what she had said earlier. "_Surely twice won't make it any more awkward?_" He paused, staring at her incredulously. "And how the _hell_ is this situation even remotely awkward?"

"I'm sorry that I can remember what had happened this time"!" she shot back, her voice giving away the fact that she was flustered. "I remember your touch, and the feel of your skin..."

"Shut up!"

Everyone went quiet and looked over at the person guilty of the outburst. "I can't handle hearing anything more about this at breakfast!" Katniss continued, appearing to take no note that everyone was staring at her. "I don't care what you two do in private, but don't talk about it here!"

The silence continued for a few more seconds, before it was finally broken.

"You think I've forgotten everything?" asked Haymitch, completely ignoring the tribute's words. Disbelief was evident in his voice. "I may be coasting right now, but trust me, there's no way I'd be able to forget what happened!"

"I won't forget this either," groaned Peeta, lightly banging his head on the table. He looked up over at the girl sitting directly across from him, a moment later standing up. "Katniss, let's leave. This is none of our business."

She hesitated, but finally got up and followed him over to the other side of the room, giving the two adults some privacy.

Meanwhile, Effie just stared over at Haymitch. He was slightly out of breath, and he stared back at her. His eyes were intense, and she felt almost as if he was trying to read her mind. It was unnerving, and she knew she had to stop it...

Before she knew what she was doing, she lunged across the table and smashed her lips against his.

Glasses and plates fell to the floor, shattering across the formerly perfect surface. The tablecloth fell off the side, and the sound of everything crashing surely had to be enough for everyone in the building to hear.

His chair screeched back from the force of another person pouncing onto him, and Effie managed to get on top of his lap. She straddled his body, and Haymitch was in no way protesting, his hands on her hips and his mouth all over her neck.

Katniss and Peeta watched with complete shock as the scene unfolded. The horror was evident in their features, and neither of them seemed capable of speaking.

"Forget dying in the games," Peeta finally managed to whisper. "Having this burned into my memory is going to kill me."

Katniss stared, looking unsure on how to respond. "I know I said I didn't care what they did behind closed doors, and I don't, but...there's something wrong with this," she told him.

Peeta finally managed to tear his gaze away from what was happening, and he looked over at her. "Then why don't you tell them that?"

She didn't answer for a while, looking as if she was considering his question. "Because it's so wrong, it's almost _right_."

Meanwhile, Effie seemed to be doing her best to tug out all of Haymitch's hair, running her fingers through the blond strands.

"Princess," he managed to say when there was a moment's break in their impromptu make-out session. "Are you _trying_ to rip my hair out?"

She instantly loosened her grip, but then he broke off the kiss and stared up at her. "...I didn't say stop," he told her.

She returned his stare, a small smile beginning to form on her lips before she pressed them against his again. "We should...go somewhere...more...private," she said in between kissing him, her voice barely just above a whisper.

"If you insist," was the only response he gave and, without warning, he grabbed the edge of the table and stood up, her arms around his neck and her legs wrapped around his waist.

Katniss and Peeta watched as a few chairs get knocked over as Haymitch and Effie left a trail of destruction from their original spot all the way to her room.

"They're like animals," said Katniss once the two of them were gone.

The room was a mess, covered in shattered glass and wood.

Peeta swallowed, his eyes still focused on Effie's door and the place they had disappeared into. "As they were leaving, I saw a bodily reaction of Haymitch that I'll never be able to erase from my memory," he told her.

"You think that's bad?" Katniss asked, looking over at him. "Some poor Avox is going to have to come in here and clean up this mess, along with..._whatever_ they're doing in there." She shuddered, glancing over at the closed door.

He didn't respond, and in the silence there was the sound of a thud. "...Are they having sex against the wall?" he finally asked.

"I hope not." she replied, appearing to cringe at the thought.

He looked over at her. "Why?"

"Because I share a wall with her."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four:**

Effie rolled onto her stomach and stared at her new...lover? Friend? She decided not to think too much about which label fit him best, and pushed it to the back of her mind.

He was sitting against the frame of the bed, and she watched as he took a sip from a glass of scotch.

"You know, we should probably go talk to Katniss and Peeta," she suggested, but it was evident she had no plans of getting dressed or even getting up.

He ran his hand over his face as if he was considering it, but she knew he wasn't. "Maybe later," he finally told her. "They're probably still in shock."

"Yes," she agreed, grinning playfully at him. "I'm sure they're wondering exactly what happened."

"Speaking of which," he began, taking another sip of his drink. "I'm kind of wondering the same thing. One minute you're angry, and the next you're jumping me like there's no tomorrow."

She gave a half-shrug, trying not to blush. "I don't know...I guess seeing you angry was kind of amusing and a little sexy."

"Amusing?" he repeated the word. "You find me being angry amusing?"

"And _sexy_," she reminded him. "I also found it sexy."

He rolled his eyes. "That's even worse," he told her, but didn't appear to particularly care.

She looked at him, thinking back to only a few hours ago when she had freaked out that she had woken up with him in her bed. Now she was completely sober and couldn't be more at ease with him there.

"So what now?" she asked, lightly running her finger down his abdomen.

He shrugged, watching her hand as it steadily travelled lower. "I don't know," he replied. "You tell me."

She didn't respond for a moment or two, taking the time to think over what she was about to say. "Do you want to...?" she trailed off finally, knowing he'd be able to fill in the blanks.

He arched an eyebrow at her. "Again? Four times in less than twenty four hours?" he asked, setting down his glass on the nightstand next to her bed. "Aren't I a lucky man."

"Trust me, what's about to happen has nothing to do with luck," she told him, purposefully making her voice dramatically sexy.

He smirked at her.

"But the odds are still ever in my favor, aren't they?"

The End


End file.
